Moth and Flame
by governmentcontractor
Summary: The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series. Seven years later ... (Complete)
1. Prologue

Title: Moth and Flame – The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series

Author: Jayde

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Seven years have passed since the events of 'Rest in Peace'.

Credits: Thanks to Sassy, once again, for the excellent and timely beta.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended.

Author's Notes: Well, I'm back again. Yup, seven whole years have passed since 'Rest in Peace', and the universe I'm borrowing for this story is the one from the new comics. You haven't been following that, you say? That's okay. I'll explain as we go along. And for those who have been following the new comics, here's what I'm messing with: Raphael was never bitten by vampires, no Mike and Regenta (or eggs), and I have no idea about those weird assassins after Karai and the Foot. What is still true is that the Utroms came to Earth, and that aliens now visit and live on this planet, allowing the guys to live openly.

Prologue:

Late autumn leaves, blood red, crunched underfoot as he walked the familiar path to work. The air was crisp and cool, and he was glad he had worn the heavy trench coat today. He would never quite get used to these temperatures – it was a wonder he hadn't accepted a post in a warmer climate.

"Dr. Hamato!"

The shout drew him to a halt as two students hurried up. The boy was puffing from the brief run, but the girl seemed used to such exercise.

"Dr. Hamato," she said respectfully. "We wanted to talk to you about yesterday's lab." Their professor nodded politely, and motioned for the pair to follow. Walking through the large university campus, the professor nodded to those who greeted him. He had been teaching here for only two years now, but already he had been offered tenure. And why not? After all, he was a unique draw.

The brick building housing the science departments loomed ahead.

"Dr. Hamato, we were wondering if you would let us do the lab again," the boy said, finding his voice finally as they stepped through the door. The hallway was early morning quiet.

"Mark," Dr. Hamato replied gently. "It's not about how the experiment worked – it's what you learned from it."

"But we could do better," Mark insisted. His lab partner nodded anxiously. Neither of them wished to fail this class, and Dr. Hamato was already notorious for his ferocious final exams. They needed the lab grade.

"We'll take a look at your lab notes, and …" But Dr. Hamato didn't finish his statement. Instead, he halted just inside the lab, his hand still on the wall switches, as the unforgiving fluorescent light glittered in a wide pool of blood.

"Oh my god," the female student gasped, her hand to her mouth. Mark whirled back to the hallway and was noisily sick.

Don stood still and studied the entire room through narrowed eyes – old instincts still remained strong in him. The boy who lay in the pool of blood was certainly dead, and Don could see nothing missing or damaged in the lab. The windows were closed, and no one else was here.

There were bloody footprints leading from the body to this door. Don backed up slowly, catching his student and pulling her out as well.


	2. 1

Title: Moth and Flame – The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series

Author: Jayde

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Seven years have passed since the events of 'Rest in Peace'.

Credits: Thanks to Sassy, once again, for the excellent and timely beta.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended.

Chapter 1:

Six years earlier …

"You can't keep doing this!"

Don, standing several feet away with one two toed foot up on the ledge, shrugged dismissively at his brother's command. They were standing on a rooftop in the dead of night.

"Donnie, I'm serious," Leo said furiously. He was keeping his voice low, just in case, but there was an edge to it that indicated he wasn't going to give up. "You are taking too many risks following her."

"What do you want me to do?" Don asked, his tone resigned.

Leo turned his head, looking away from the slump in his brother's shoulders. He didn't want to deny Don anything, but this had to stop. "Give her up, bro, and move on," Leo said at last.

* * *

The world has changed. So much so, that it was hard to remember what it was before the aliens landed. Three years ago, watching that first meeting on television, she had been forcibly reminded of her old friends. Were they watching this?

What had it meant to them?

Sam shrugged the question away, just as she shrugged so many things away with the excuse that it would wait a little longer.

What it had meant for her, though, was a new opportunity within the police department. A new unit had been created 18 months ago – a specialized homicide division to handle the increasing numbers of alien-related murders. And as an up and comer in the department, she had been offered the promotion to lead it. It still gave her an enormous flush of pride when someone called her 'lieutenant'.

Today, though, was the ugly side of the job. A call had come in about a murder on the NYU campus – and that early officers on the scene reported an alien involved. Because it was expected to be high profile, and the media was already swarming over the story – she had come down to participate in the questioning.

Maybe it was the time she had spent in the company of the turtles, but somehow the alien creatures she met through her job never seemed to faze her. She paused before the door to the interrogation room, and took a deep breath as she smoothed out her professional suit jacket. Pasting on an appropriate smile, Sam opened the door … and promptly halted in open-mouthed surprise.

"Don?" she asked in a shocked whisper.

The two detectives – one leaning against the window frame, and the other seated across from the turtle, glanced at her in surprise.

"Um, If you would excuse us for a moment," Sam said, recovering a little of her poise. The detectives shrugged and headed for the door.

"We're done anyway, Lieutenant," one of them offered on his way out.

* * *

With the detectives out of the way, Sam shut the door on the interrogation room and sat down across from the turtle. He looked so much the same, and so very different.

"Nice suit," she complimented dryly. It helped to cover the sudden nervous tension in her stomach, and the perspiration that coated her palms.

"Thank you," Don replied, his voice just as warm and gentle as she had remembered it. "Am I under arrest?"

"No," Sam denied quickly, shaking her head. She rested her arms on the table and leaned forward. "Of course not. Just some questions about how you found the body." Don nodded slightly. "It … it shouldn't take long," Sam added, cursing inwardly at her own anxiousness. Where was the smooth and polished homicide lieutenant now?

"I was heading into the lab with two students. I turned on the lights, and there he was," Don said in a neutral tone of voice, his hands cupped together and resting on the surface of the cold metal table. "I'm afraid I don't know any more than that."

"Yes, well," Sam responded, suddenly at a loss. She tried to think of something else to ask him, and couldn't come up with a single thing. "Should I have someone call you a cab?" she offered, rising to her feet a little unsteadily.

"No, I'll find my way," Don said, standing as well. The light from the windows cut stripes across his body parallel to the dusty blinds.

"Would you … I'd like to see you, again," Sam stated baldly, and then winced at her runaway tongue. She looked over at him uncertainly. His eyes were in shadow, but his mouth was smiling. She tried on a smile as well. "Dinner, maybe? Tomorrow night at my place?" It was an incredibly bold move, and she wrapped her hands together to keep them from trembling visibly.

"Alright," Don accepted lightly, and she relaxed a little. Now she just had to think of something to cook.

* * *

"Mom! Where the hell are my shoes?"

A woman with a spatula in one hand, and a phone in the other shouted back.

"Noelle, watch your language!" Juliet responded, and then grumbled quietly to herself about not allowing her children to spend so much time with Uncle Raphael. She then proceeded to try and turn the eggs while continuing with her telephone conversation. "Bill? Sorry. Yes, I can be there today."

Mike entered the kitchen, and calmly snatched the spatula from his wife's hand. She moved out of the way as he took over the breakfast cooking. Instead, she wandered out into the hall to look for the missing shoes. "Bill, hang on," she said into the phone. "Noelle, your shoes are right beside the hall closet!" she yelled. "Bill, I'll be there. You know I always come through," Juliet reassured in a voice with far less volume. Back in the kitchen, Rachel drifted in to slip up behind Mike. Before she could so much as breathe on him, he had spun around to point the spatula at her in a threatening manner.

"Damn," the fifteen-year-old pouted. "You're still fast, old man."

"Don't forget it," Mike retorted, but he was smiling when he turned back to his cooking. Juliet walked back into the kitchen, the phone still to her ear. Mike's smile wobbled at the all too familiar sight.

"Sure. I'll be there in less than an hour. Bye," Juliet said, and hung up. She flashed a bright smile at Rachel. "Hey! You don't mind taking the bus to your martial arts class, do you?"

"No, mother," Rachel huffed, and Mike set a plate in front of her.

"I'll drive you," Mike said, setting a similar plate on the table for Juliet, but she waved it away.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Juliet said, refusing the food. "I've got to be at the State capitol building this morning." She blew Mike a kiss, and hurried back to the bedroom. Mike looked sadly down at the breakfast, and then sat down in front of it. He picked up his fork, and toyed with the eggs for a moment.

Rachel, sitting across from him, wished her mother were here to see this. But then, her mother was never there any more. She was an activist now, the teenager thought with a sardonic smile. She protested, wrote letters, campaigned and generally made a nuisance of herself – all in the name of alien rights specifically, the right for aliens to marry humans.

In a way, it was sort of romantic. Her mom's complete dedication to a cause that should have brought her closer to her husband, and yet it didn't. Because she was never home.

It sucked, actually. Every activity and event, Mike was there. He was – and at one time this would have pained Rachel to admit – a really good dad.

Which was necessary, since their mother was practically nonexistent.


	3. 2

Title: Moth and Flame – The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series

Author: Jayde

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Seven years have passed since the events of 'Rest in Peace'.

Credits: Thanks to Sassy, once again, for the excellent and timely beta.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended.

Author's Notes: Wow! That's immediate feedback, folks.

To Reinbeauchaser: I'm sorry I'm confusing. If you have a suggestion on how to make the 'time switches' a little clearer, I'd love to hear it. The standard, though, is that the first section of each chapter is a flashback. Why do I do that? Because I'm weird. No, it actually serves the purpose (in my mind) of bringing the reader up to date on things that came before without making the story boring.

To Reluctant Dragon: Conflict, definitely. Just wait …

To pacphys and Fallen Hikari: More Uncle Raph in this chapter

For everyone with a comment on the 'new comics' universe … I've read volumes 1, 2, and now I'm into 4. (I refuse to acknowledge volume 3). It is up to issue 20 of the new series with Laird taking the guys in new and unusual directions. As mentioned in the prologue, the new series has the Utroms landing on Earth, and now aliens visit at will. The guys are about 30 years old at the beginning of the new series – not exactly teenage mutants anymore.

I liked the idea of the turtles being part of society, but I also liked the idea that it wasn't a bed of roses. Some of the story direction in the new series is fantastic, as far as I'm concerned. But other stuff has upset some of the fans. For me, this is still Laird's playground. I'm only here to try the slide and take a turn on the swings. I'll put it all back the way I found it when I'm done. I'll also be biting my nails for issue 21 (two months is torture!). Everyone has their 'first experience' with TMNT. Mine was in a dim and dusty comic book store, but I digress.

Chapter 2:

Five years earlier …

He woke up, as usual, to the sound of screams.

"It's my hairbrush! Don't touch it!" Rachel shrieked from the other side of the wall. Mike rolled over, and shifted the pillow so that it covered his head. He startled when someone poked him rudely in the right thigh.

"What?" he groused, peering out from under his hiding place. He met a pair of dark eyes that observed him with humor.

"That doesn't work," she commiserated, snuggling closer. Mike let go of a corner of the pillow to wrap an arm around her waist. He wrapped his right leg around her too, while he was at it.

"It's worth a try," he replied, leaning forward to kiss her nose. She wrinkled up her face and frowned at him before wiping her nose in an exaggerated manner. Mike shifted a little, drawing her still nearer, and kissed her mouth this time. Her hands moved over his plastron, feather light, and drifted to his more sensitive sides to glide over the skin there.

"Mom! Noelle threw my hairbrush into Raphael's room!" Rachel shouted from just outside the door. Mike groaned, and rolled back onto his shell.

"That sounds like a job for you," Juliet commented, drawing the covers up and hiding her head.

* * *

It was like the old days. Sitting on the top of the table, wearing a comfortable pair of jeans and an old sweater in place of her usual business suit, Sam studied the grisly display.

A board had been set up in her office, and it was covered with crime scene photos, maps, and detailed accounts of three murders. The last one had been the body recovered from the University physics lab … Don's lab. Sam massaged her temples, and stared at the pictures. Three young men, with nothing more in common than that they were in their early twenties and in the city, had been beaten to death. Blunt force trauma, the coroner's report said.

But the violence of the beating was unusual. Each of the victims had resembled hamburger afterwards. It would take an incredible amount of strength and perseverance to do this to a human being.

Each of the bodies had been found somewhere that they didn't belong. This young man, Tyler Johnson, was not even a student at the University. Don had never seen him before, and no one on campus had admitted to recognizing him. He had turned out to be a waiter at a fancy hotel – just waiting for his call to Broadway.

The previous victim – Sean Peters – had been an art student. His body turned up by the fountain in a shopping mall.

And that was the worst part of it. No witnesses, even though each body had been left in a very public place. Nothing on surveillance cameras at any of the locations, and if they had been tampered with her experts couldn't detect it.

Three victims made it necessary to take the next step. It was time to start thinking of this in terms of a serial killer.

* * *

"You okay, Elle?"

She glanced up from staring out the passenger window to look at her father.

"I'm okay," she sighed. Seeing Mike's doubting expression, she tried a little harder. "Really, everything is good."

"I know you wanted your mom to take you today …" Mike began. He watched her shoulders slump a little, and he felt the tiniest flicker of anger with Juliet.

"It's just a lesson," Noelle said, brushing it off with a shrug, but it did hurt. She was getting ready to perform at a recital in less than two weeks. She wanted her mother to come and hear her play.

"You don't have to pretend with me, Elle," Mike noted gently. He watched Noelle's face crumple, and he pulled into a parking spot in front of a pleasant brownstone on a street that was lined with such quaint buildings. He put it in park, and keyed off the engine. "Elle, come here sweetie," he offered, holding out his arms. The girl undid her seatbelt, and pressed herself close to the only father she had ever known. "Your mom loves you. She loves all of us," he reassured. "She'll be at your recital, Elle."

Noelle nodded, but inside she thought it unlikely. Her mother had been missing a lot of stuff lately.

A light knock on the passenger window startled both of them. Mike looked up to see a blonde woman looking in, her eyes dark with concern. Noelle moved back and opened her door.

"Noelle? What's wrong?" the woman asked. Noelle hung her head, and remained silent. Mike got out of the car, and walked around to them.

"Hey Amber," Mike greeted in an abnormally subdued manner. Amber frowned, and put an arm around Noelle's shoulders.

"Mike? Is something going on?" Amber questioned. Mike shook his head. It was nothing he intended to share with Noelle's piano teacher. Glancing between the two of them with a small frown marring her forehead, Amber gave up – for now. "Are you ready, Noelle?"

The girl nodded, and tried to smile. It came out a little crooked. Mike followed them up to the building, a now familiar melancholy shrouding his spirit.

* * *

It looked a bit like a dance studio, and according to Leo that was exactly what it had been before he and Raphael bought the old place, and converted it for their use. Two large rooms with simple wood flooring each had a wall of floor to ceiling mirrors. The ballet bars had been removed, of course, and there were no dancers present anywhere.

Instead, the occupied room rang with grunts and the occasional yell – all relatively tame in comparison to Raphael's shouted instructions to his class.

It had been Don's idea – start a martial arts school in the old neighborhood. What else were Leo and Raph qualified to do? They could have stayed in the lair, of course. The option of continuing to hide from the world was still available – but they didn't want to. Mike, too, would drop by to teach a class, practice, and bring his daughters here for their lessons.

Don looked around at the clean white walls, the parents sitting behind the glass and watching Raph's class, and the shelves displaying a growing number of trophies. It had been a good idea – one of his better ones in fact. Leo, on the phone and making notes on a pad of paper, finally completed his call.

"So what brings you here, Donnie?" Leo queried, his left eye ridge cocked.

"I ran into someone," Don confessed slowly. Leo waved Don into the small office, and Don took a chair gratefully. Leo leaned back in his chair on the other side of the desk, and considered his brother.

"Someone?" Leo asked.

"Sam," Don said. It was only three letters, but there was a lot of emotion in that simple name.

Leo frowned deeply, and Don couldn't really blame him. It had been more than seven years, but some things you just couldn't forget.

"Don …," Leo started hesitantly.

"I know," Don interrupted, raising a hand to stop the lecture before it started.

"No, I don't think you do," Leo said harshly. "She …" Leo struggled for the right words to say. "She didn't just step on your heart, she ripped it out and tore it to pieces." Don looked down at the desk, and Leo leaned forward to lay a hand on his brother's arm. "You do what you feel is right, but be careful." Leo let go and sat back again. "I don't trust her," he muttered darkly.

"You don't trust anyone," Don rejoined, his voice a little tight.

"True, that," Raph said from the open doorway. Don turned to see his other brother leaning against the frame, and holding a bottle of water. He waved the bottle in the direction of the front door. "Mike's here." He took a long drink, draining the bottle, and then tossed it into the office garbage can. "It's like a family reunion."

"Hey," Mike said, sticking his head in the door. "Don!" Don replied with a wide smile. "Rachel's here, and I gotta go back and pick up Noelle from piano." He seemed a little down.

"You want to talk later, Mikey?" Leo asked. Mike shook his head, and threw a punch at Raph's shoulder.

"Rach is in the classroom."

* * *

Rachel had started out her martial arts training with Mike as her teacher. That had lasted up until the past couple of years, when the brothers felt Rachel needed to start working with someone who wasn't so close to the situation. Mike just didn't have the detachment necessary to be hard on her.

Raphael, of course, was another matter entirely.

"Come on, Rachel," Raphael groused. "At least make the bag move a little when you kick it!"

Since the tender age of 13, Raphael had been her sensei. Each week he pushed her through more complex katas, sparred with her, and tried to get her to be more aggressive in her attacks.

"The bag is moving! Maybe your eyesight is going," Rach retorted breathlessly.

There was no problem with her verbal attacks. She had only grown more flippant spending time with Raphael every week.

"Alright, alright," he said, calling a halt to her work with the heavy bag. "Come on over here, and see if you can stay on yer feet." Raph rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. Rachel joined him on the mats, and bowed perfunctorily. "Yer gonna pay for that," he threatened, and Rachel replied with a cheeky smile. She moved into a defensive position, and Raphael started to circle left. "So what's up with Mike?"

Rachel's expression transformed to a frown. "Mom," she replied shortly. She turned her body, keeping Raph from coming in on a blind side. Raph straightened up, and tilted his head a little.

"What? Trouble in paradise?"

Rachel relaxed a little. "You know her. She's all about the cause." Rachel shrugged. She loved her mother, but since they had moved to live on the surface everything had changed. Juliet didn't work – she didn't need to with the insurance money left behind by Rachel's father. Mike worked part-time at this school, but he wasn't teaching much these days – he spent most of his time being a single parent. It was tough – realizing that your parents were capable of making mistakes. Rachel glanced down at the mat uncomfortably. "I dunno," she mumbled.

It happened so fast; she barely had time to register the leg sweep before she was on the mat. Rachel looked up to find Raphael standing over her with a disgusted look on his face.

"Never drop your eyes in the trainin' room, kid," he corrected sternly. He offered her a hand up, which she took without hesitation.

"I'm not a kid," she argued. Raph gave her a friendly shove, rocking her back on her heels.

"Yeah you are," Raph rejoined. "Now get it together, or yer gonna be on that mat all hour."

* * *


	4. 3

Title: Moth and Flame – The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series

Author: Jayde

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Seven years have passed since the events of 'Rest in Peace'.

Credits: All bow to Sassy, because she works so hard to clean up my writing and turn this stuff around quickly.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended.

Author's Notes: Aw, I don't want to spoil anything for anyone. Just read.

"One more for love …"

Five for Fighting – 'One More for Love'

Chapter 3:

Two years earlier …

"Hey, where's …?"

Rachel got a chance to start the question, but she never had a prayer of finishing it.

"Sit down," Raphael commanded sharply. He was sitting on a mat in the center of the room in the new martial arts school. Rachel had been expecting to see Mike here for her lesson. "You hear me, kid?"

Rachel gulped back a retort, and knelt down on the mat in front of him – but far enough away that she had a chance to run if necessary. She had always been just a little bit afraid of 'Uncle' Raph. He didn't make her things like Don, and he wasn't as quiet as Leo. He was loud, and rude, and you never quite knew what he was going to do until he did it.

"Here's the deal. There's been a change of plans in your training," Raph explained cryptically. Rachel waited, wondering what this meant. Was she not going to be trained anymore? Was she maybe doing so well they were going to give her more to do? Like maybe she'd get to patrol with her uncles now?

"I'm yer new sensei," Raphael announced, dashing her hopes.

"No way," Rachel denied quickly, and Raph scowled at the thirteen year old girl.

"'Fraid so, kid. So, here's the rules, and they're real simple. You do what I say, when I say, and we'll get along just fine."

"And if I don't?" Rachel questioned daringly. Raph's wide mouth quirked up in a small smile that would have sent knowledgeable Foot clan soldiers fleeing from the room, but Rachel remained where she was.

"Try me," he offered lightly, but his eyes were narrowed and ready for any movement. Rachel decided not to try just yet.

* * *

The buzzer for the downstairs door sounded, disrupting her in the middle of changing. She glanced at the clock, and her mouth dropped open with horror. It couldn't be time yet … She shrugged her blouse on and fumbled with the buttons as she hurried to the front door. She hit the intercom button.

"Yes?"

"Sam?" Don's voice came back clearly through the speaker. Sam gritted her teeth in frustration. Couldn't he be late just once in his life? She hit the button to open the door to the building. Now she had two minutes. Running to the kitchen, she finished buttoning her shirt and tucked it into her skirt. She yanked open the fridge door, and pulled out the chicken … only to discover it was still frozen. Sam cursed viciously, and threw the package back into the fridge.

A soft knock at her door sent her spinning back in that direction. This had been one of her categorically bad ideas. She had only been home for a few minutes from briefing the FBI on the possibility of a serial killer in the city, and now she had nothing ready to make for dinner.

Well, she couldn't leave him outside all night, Sam mused with self-disgust. She took a steadying breath, and walked to the door. She opened it, and lit up with a smile as she saw Don there with a bundle of flowers, and a boxed pizza.

"I hope you're not offended," he offered, grinning. "But I didn't know if you had learned to cook yet." Sam took the pizza from him, and shook her head, still smiling.

"It's not that I can't cook," she emphasized, stepping back to let him in to her apartment. "It's that I never have time." Don entered and took a look around. Some of the furniture looked familiar, but the couch was new. He turned back to find Sam looking him up and down.

"What?" he asked, curious. He glanced down at his clothes to see if something were amiss.

"I just can't get over you being dressed," Sam commented. Immediately reflecting on her statement, Sam's face flushed with embarrassment. "Well, you know. You never wore clothes before and …" Her blush deepened, and Don had to put a hand over his mouth before he started laughing. Sam shut the door, and took the pizza into the kitchen without another word. She was afraid of what she would say next.

Don followed her, and she saw he was still holding the flowers. Sam opened a cupboard, and took down a simple vase, filling it with tap water. "These are beautiful," she murmured, putting them into the water. "You didn't have to," she added, meeting his eyes again.

"No, but I wanted to," he noted, leaning against the counter. "Plates?" he questioned. Sam nodded at the kitchen cupboard near the fridge, and she turned to the drawer that held the silverware. A few minutes later, they were perched at her kitchen counter on stools, and eating the pizza.

"So it looks like the same perpetrator," Sam said, completing her tale of the three related killings. Don leaned his arms on the counter, holding his glass of wine lightly in one hand as he considered the information. "More?" Sam asked, sliding over the bottle. Don shook his head.

"I don't want to get drunk," he said, still thinking about the murders.

"Well, there goes that plan," Sam muttered. Don raised an eye ridge as he studied his dinner companion mutely. A small smile graced her features, as she lifted her glass and took a sip. She set her glass down carefully, and looked at her empty plate. Her smile slipped away to be replaced by a very serious expression. "There's so much I want to say right now, but I'm not sure where to start."

Don stood up from his stool, and took her arm. She rose as well, and they walked over to the couch to sit down again. Sam turned her body to face him, and bit her lip as she considered how to begin.

"It's been a long time, Sam. If this is about before …," Don shrugged. "I'm not angry about that now."

"It's not about that, really. I do want to say I'm sorry for all of that," Sam started, staring at her hands. "But it's also about not coming to see you. Why I waited so long …"

"Why did you?" Don queried, leaning forward and trying to seek out her eyes to read her expression. She looked up finally.

"I was afraid," she admitted. "I wanted to come and talk to you. I thought about doing it hundreds of times, but … I didn't know how you would react." Sam blinked a few times. "I didn't know if you still cared, and it seemed safer to stay away then to learn that you … that you hated me. I wanted to keep that hope, even if it wasn't real," she said wistfully.

"Sam …," Don whispered. He reached out and placed one of his hands over hers. She turned her hand over and clasped his fingers.

"I kept busy," she confessed, her voice getting a little hoarse with emotion. "But I never forgot …" Don brought his other hand up and cupped her cheek. She tilted her head, and rubbed her cheek against his palm. Her eyes were closed. If this were a dream, then she wouldn't do anything to disrupt it.

Don leaned forward, and pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth. Sam lifted her hands and caught the collar of his shirt, bringing him closer and deepening the kiss. His fingers moved into her hair, and she made a small noise of pleasure.

He retreated a little, and tried to catch his breath. "We should probably practice a little restraint," he noted unevenly.

Sam stood up abruptly, and offered a hand to Don. "I think we've waited long enough," she said, her voice husky but certain. Don searched her eyes for a moment, and then put his hand in hers.

* * *

"I'm home!" Juliet called just after she shut the front door. Hearing only silence in the apartment, she headed for the kitchen to drop her backpack. It was stuffed with more reports that needed to be studied, and lists of possible supporters to contact. She didn't take any of it out, because she was too damn tired to deal with it right now.

It had seemed so simple in the beginning – a few hours a week to help bring a law into being. What's the big deal, after all? But she had badly misjudged how many people were against having aliens on the planet, let alone letting aliens marry humans. What had started as something fairly selfish, her desire to marry Mike legally, had become an all-consuming quest.

She wasn't the only one suffering. In fact, she wasn't even really having the problems so many others were. She knew a lovely female alien who had been tossed out of her home after her partner's death. He had left the place to her in a will, but because his family contested it, and there was no 'official' relationship she had lost out. It affected property rights, child custody, medical insurance – the litany went on and on.

And it terrified her. What if something happened to her? Mike wouldn't automatically get the children, because he wasn't recognized as their legal stepfather.

She knew this was hard on her family – all her hours away from home. But it seemed worth it right now to protect the future.

Juliet looked at the backpack. It seemed to be calling out to her conscience. She should get to work, but all she wanted was to crawl up the stairs, and curl up against Mike. She sighed, and opened the pack to draw out a large sheaf of papers. She set them on the table, and got herself a glass of water before buckling down to work.

Upstairs, stretched out on a large bed, Mike listened in the dark as Juliet settled down in a chair to begin reading. She wasn't even going to come up and say anything to him. He turned onto his side, and tried to ignore the familiar pain. He could get up and go down to her, but that would be a little worse. That would be a more direct method of rejection than what he was experiencing right now.

* * *

Don rolled over, and opened his eyes. He was disturbed, at least momentarily, to see an unfamiliar room. He rubbed at his eyes, and turned his head on the pillow to note that he wasn't alone.

Sam's eyes were closed, and her face was relaxed in sleep. There was even a small smile. He moved closer, careful not to wake her up. He cautiously wrapped an arm around her waist, and she shifted nearer unconsciously. Don closed his eyes and breathed deeply, brushing his beak against her hair. He wanted this to last as long as possible before the world intruded.

True to experience, a cell phone rang on the bedside table. Sam groaned, and turned over to reach for it. Without even opening her eyes, she answered it.

"Hello," she said groggily. Then, a little more alert. "Where …? When …? No, I'll be there." She disconnected, and dropped the phone on the comforter. Sam stretched, arching her back, and then moved her arms around Don's neck as she pressed close to him. "I have to go to work," she whispered against his jaw, just before she kissed him there. She continued to dot kisses along his jaw and down onto his neck. "You could stay here," she offered softly. "Hopefully I won't be too long."

"I have to get to class," Don responded, wrapping his arms around her, enjoying her attentions.

"Mmmn," she groaned unhappily, and drew away. Don let her go reluctantly as she sat up and shook out her tousled hair.

"What happened?" he asked, curious about the early morning call.

Sam slumped a little, and drew her knees up to her chest. "Another murder," she responded quietly, looking across the room at the mirror over her dresser. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips a little swollen, and her hair a mess. And she only had a few minutes to pull herself together. She glanced over at Don, who was still prone on the bed, his arms crossed behind his head. She could see that he was pondering something again. "Will you come over later?" His eyes focused on hers, and his wide mouth turned up in a smile of promise.

"Absolutely."

* * *

Coming downstairs in the morning, Mike found Juliet already in the kitchen, and pouring a large pot of coffee into a thermos.

"Hey," he greeted on his way to the fridge to dig out juice. He glanced at her, and noted the dark circles like purple bruises under her eyes. "Did you sleep at all?"

"A little," Juliet said, twisting on the top of her thermos. "On the couch. I didn't want to wake you." If she had turned, she might have seen the sharp line of Mike's jaw as he ground his teeth together.

"And you're leaving again," he noted, his tone calm only by force of will. He shut the fridge a little harder than normal, and poured a glass of juice.

"There's a big protest to plan," Juliet explained, zipping up her backpack, and then struggling into her jacket. "You knew it would be busy when I was elected vice president of the action committee. It's a bigger commitment." Mike nodded, and tried not to flinch as she dropped a quick kiss on his cheek before she hurried out.

He leaned against the counter for a little while after she had gone, gripping the edge so tightly that his fingers ached. When the phone rang, interrupting his dark thoughts, he was kind of relieved.

"Hello," he said into the telephone, and heard Noelle's piano teacher on the other end. "A meeting? Sure, I can come by later today. Not a problem. Do I need to bring …? Oh." Mike paused, a little puzzled that she didn't want him to bring Noelle along. "No, that's not a problem. Bye."

He set the phone down, wondering what the issue was with Noelle's piano lessons.

* * *

Author's Notes: You guys are so generous with the reviews. Thank you to Lunar-ninja, pacphys, Reluctant Dragon, chibi-rose-angel (I hope the email helped!), Reinbeauchaser, Sassy (have a nice trip!), BubblyShell, and KuwabaraMikey17. 


	5. 4

Title: Moth and Flame – The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series

Author: Jayde

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Seven years have passed since the events of 'Rest in Peace'.

Credits: Thanks to Sassy, once again, for the excellent and timely beta.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended.

Author's Notes: You know, I could make a little speech here, but I just finished Sassy's 'Drowning', and I'm all emotional and bummed out. I totally admire her for writing it, though. It is the one thing you will never see me write – I just can't bring myself to kill the guys. The good news is nothing too terrible happens in this chapter. The real angst is still ahead.

Chapter 4:

Four years earlier …

"I cannot believe you made us drag a piano down here," Leo complained, massaging his aching shoulder.

This was met with a chorus of groans as everyone took a break from moving the unwieldy instrument into the lair. Casey leaned against the wall and took a breather, while Don ran his fingers over the dusty keys.

"At least we didn't pay anything for it, but it needs repairs," Don noted. He tapped a couple of keys, and winced at the sound. "And it needs to be tuned."

"Aww, it's nothing you can't fix, Donnie," Mike cajoled, batting his eyes at his brother hopefully. Don cast a sour look in Mike's direction.

"Mikey, I don't know anything about tuning a piano," Don explained, but he could see that any excuse would be met with stiff opposition in the face of Mike's determination.

"Noelle wants to learn to play piano, Donnie," Mike insisted. "We'll figure it out. We always do."

* * *

It was New York City, but even so, you would think someone would stop when they saw a body in the middle of the road.

Sam winced as the coroner attempted to peel the victim off of the pavement in the center of the Holland tunnel. Apparently, the body had been run over a few times before anyone reported it. Even so, it was apparent that this was number four to add to her wall of related murders. From what she could identify, this was a young man in his early twenties. No clothes or other identifying items were around, and the body had been beaten to a pulpy mess – helped along by the vehicles that had run him over.

Moving away from the body, Sam scanned the small crowd that had gathered to watch. Even here in the tunnel, there were gawkers. She signaled to the CSI crew to hurry it along – they were, after all, blocking morning traffic.

Leaning against the passenger door of a black and white, Sam let her mind drift for a moment. It was highly unfair that she had to be rousted out of bed this morning, and that Don had to rush off to the university. She reminded herself that the weekend was approaching. Surely she would catch a break at some point, and be allowed to savor her time with him.

A car pulled up, dragging Sam from her ruminations. It was dark blue, utterly plain, and screamed FBI. It perfectly matched the bookend agents who climbed out a moment after it parked. It was procedure to contact the FBI in cases where a serial killer seemed to be at work, but it chaffed to have the bureau leaning over her and interfering in her work.

"Gentlemen," she greeted with a less than pleased drawl.

"Detective," the taller of the two replied, glancing around the scene. Sam frowned deeply.

"It's Lieutenant, Agent," Sam reminded him. He nodded distractedly.

"You sure this is another one?" he questioned, his tone doubtful. Sam clenched her jaw, and fought down her innate desire to tell this guy where to go.

"It matches the description of the other victims, yes," Sam replied tightly. The agent signaled to the coroner, who continued to scrape up the body.

"We'll want to be present for the autopsy, and we'll be bringing in a profiler from the local office," the agent informed her in a monotone. Sam made a sour face, and watched the clean up continue. "You will share any information you have promptly, will you not, Gallagher?"

"Of course," Sam agreed,even if her tone of voice would have frozen a great lake.

* * *

Walking the streets this early in the morning was something of a pleasure. Before everything changed – before when they had to stay in the darkness – it was unheard of for him to walk the sidewalk at dawn. Now, he could stroll towards the school at a relaxed pace, but still with his guard up because of the neighborhood.

He dug out his keys, and on reaching the door, started to unlock it. Something odd reflected in the glass, and he spun around. There was a bookstore across the street that had just opened up the week before. The front windows were coated with violent orange paint spelling out three words. 'Go home freak.' Seeing a light on inside, Leo relocked his own door and crossed the empty street. He knocked on the front door, and waited a moment for it to open. When it did, he gaped for a moment before recovering.

"May I help you?" the proprietor questioned, her voice so soft Leo had to strain a bit to hear her.

"No, but I thought maybe you needed some assistance," Leo replied, looking up into silvery eyes surrounded by a pale blue face. "I saw the vandalism …"

She nodded a little, and stepped back to open the door wider. Leo, taking this as an invitation, moved inside. The shelves were filled with both paperback and hardcover, and the aisles were narrow but tidy between each high shelf. He noted two large cartons sitting next to the counter that had just been opened.

"You own the martial arts school?" she asked, and Leo gave her a brief bow.

"I'm sorry. I should have introduced myself immediately. I am Leonardo," he said, straightening and smiling up at her. The corners of her mouth quirked up a bit.

"I am called Sen," she replied, offering a bow as well. The gesture did not seem unfamiliar to her. "I would offer you some refreshment, but …," she paused to look at the painted windows. "I am having some difficulties today." She shrugged her shoulders a little. It was impossible to say what her emotional state was from her flat silver eyes and eerily even tone of voice, but to Leo, she looked distressed.

"Would you like some help?" he asked, indicating the window. "Cleaning it off?"

"It is not your problem," she demurred, taking two steps back.

"No, but I offer my assistance just the same," he returned formally. He waited as she considered this.

"Yes, your aid is appreciated," Sen decided. Less than fifteen minutes later, they were out front and working on the windows. Sen offered Leo a pair of gloves obviously purchased locally, and then grinned as he held up his hands.

"They don't fit me, either," Sen noted, holding up her own four fingered hands. Leo cautiously wetted a rag with solvent, and began scrubbing at the paint. Sen labored alongside him, and they fell into an easy conversation. "I purchased this store, thinking that other off-worlders might be starved for literature from their home planets," Sen explained, wrinkling her oddly small nose at the smell of the paint. "But I also stocked the writings of Earth. It seems, though, that humans do not read much."

Leo's mouth turned up in a rueful smile. "My brother, Don, would probably agree with that."

Glancing over her shoulder, Sen noted that someone was watching them from across the street. "You are fortunate to have family here with you."

Leo looked over at Raph, and offered a nod acknowledging his presence. "You're here alone?" he queried, looking up at Sen.

Sen sighed, and nodded. "I was to run this store with a friend of mine, but she was afraid of the humans. They are not all … accepting." She studied the remaining paint uneasily. "They will come again. I do not know why I fight this battle." Sen turned to Leo, curious. "Your business is not set upon by vandals. Why is this?"

"We had some trouble early on," Leo replied, halting his work as he remembered that time nearly two years before. The building had been messed up one night, but it hadn't taken much to track down the vandals – and he and Raph had talked them out of any further damage. Well, Leo had talked, and Raphael had spun a sai repeatedly while sneering at the boys responsible. Since then, there had been no problems at all. "Maybe I could help you with that, too," Leo offered, glancing up at the slender alien. She smiled back, and for a moment a pale color swam to the surface of her strange eyes.

"Yes, I believe I would like your help, Leonardo."

* * *

"I'm just worried about her."

Mike leaned forward in his seat on the small sofa, and listened to the concerns of Noelle's piano teacher. She had called him first thing this morning to discuss Noelle, but he had thought – maybe even hoped – that it was about the approaching recital.

"She seems so …," Amber waved her hand in the air briefly, struggling to find the word she wanted. "Depressed," she said finally, and her eyes flickered away from his. "I know there are problems at home …"

Mike lowered his eyes to the carpeted floor, and away from the young blonde woman seated on the other side of the coffee table. The apartment was about the size of a postage stamp, but neat and tidy and nearly overpowered by an upright piano along one wall. He was embarrassed that his marital problems seemed to have become common knowledge.

"I'm sorry," Amber offered gently. "I know it probably isn't any of my business, but I care about Noelle. She's so unhappy right now. If there's anything I can do …," she went on anxiously. Mike looked up, and saw only compassion in her expression. He toyed with a crease in his jeans near his right knee, and wished for his 'chucks, if only because it gave him something to hold on to.

"There's nothing … Really, I appreciate your telling me this," Mike said, stumbling a little over his words. "I'll talk to Noelle," he added. When and how and what he was going to say was a mystery in his own mind, but he would figure something out. He found himself staring at a framed print on the wall behind her left shoulder of an outdoor café at night. The silence stretched for a few minutes as his mind wandered to his future conversation with Noelle. He started a little when he felt a hand on his arm. Amber had crossed the room, and was now sitting next to him.

How he hadn't sensed her, he wasn't certain. But Leo would kick his ass for letting his guard down like that – even around his daughter's piano teacher.

"I really do want to help," Amber said, shifting her hand from his forearm to his shoulder. "Just let me know what I can do."

Blinking, and trying to get his bearings, Mike stood up quickly. It probably seemed rude, but right now he just needed to get out of here. Right now.

"Sure. Thanks," he replied, a little stunned. He backed towards the door as she watched him.

"Please call me if you need anything," she added, and Mike paused to weigh the inflections in the words. There was something beyond Noelle going on, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Instead, he nodded and smiled blankly, and got the hell out of there.

Once on the street with the mid-morning sun slanting through the trees that lined the street, he shook his head at his own foolhardy reaction. It was nothing lack of sleep or stress or something.

The piano teacher was not coming on to him.

No way.

* * *

Author's Notes: Thanks to all the reviewers. You make it happen really. I'll be posting more soon. 


	6. 5

Title: Moth and Flame – The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series

Author: Jayde

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Seven years have passed since the events of 'Rest in Peace'.

Credits: Thanks to Sassy, once again, for the excellent and timely beta.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended.

Author's Notes: Half way point folks. This sequel is ten chapters.

Chapter 5:

Seven years earlier …

"Mike, stop!"

He moved back quickly, but kept his arms around her, trying to sooth her. "I'm sorry," he whispered, adjusting the blanket to try and make her more comfortable.

"No, I'm sorry," Juliet said, her eyes starting to tear up. She balled up her fist and hit the mattress – hard. "It just … it reminds me of other things, and I panic. And it's not fair …," she choked a little on her words as the tears spilled over. "It's not fair to you, because it's not your fault."

"Hey, it's okay," Mike insisted, brushing her tears away with gentle fingers. He absolutely hated to see her cry. "I want to, and everything, but we'll do it at whatever pace you need. Okay?" He shifted closer very carefully, wanting to comfort her, but not frighten her any more than he had already. "You do what you want, and I'll follow your lead. Go ahead," he offered, giving her a grin. "Take advantage of me."

Juliet giggled through her tears, and placed a trembling kiss to the corner of his smiling mouth. "You have no idea how much that means to me," she responded. Mike wrapped her up in his arms, and hugged her. It was frustrating, sure. But he could wait for her, and it would be worth it. When you loved someone, you sometimes had to give her time.

* * *

Sam leaned back in her chair, one foot up on the seat and her knee bent to rest her newspaper against as she perused the headlines. She reached around the paper to snag a piece of toast, and crunched contentedly.

"Don't you want anything on that?"

She leaned around the side of the morning news, and peered at her guest. Don was slathering jelly on his toast.

"No," she replied, and then grinned. "I'm sweet enough as it is." Don argued that with a raised eye ridge and a snort of amusement. He bent his head and returned his attention to his book. Sam shifted back to her newspaper, still smiling. It had been a week since their impromptu reunion at the police station, and she knew it was too early to call this bliss. But what the hell. She took a hold of the caution in her heart and mentally tossed it away.

Don sighed and closed his book with an audible snap. "I have to get home."

"So soon?" Sam complained, folding down her newspaper to look at him.

"I need to change before work," he noted, glancing down at himself significantly. His shirt was a little wrinkled. That was probably her fault.

"We should just live together," Sam murmured. Don's head shot up, and he looked at her with surprise. "Did I say that out loud?" she asked a little sheepishly. Don nodded briefly. "It's just … you're here all the time, and I want you here all the time," Sam explained. "If you don't like this place," she added, waving a hand at the apartment around them. "Then we could look for something else."

"In New York City? Good luck," Don replied. Housing was at a premium, and he knew that not every landlord accepted 'aliens' on the property. He had been living with Leo and Raph at a house they had bought.

"And I'm not sharing a home with Raph," Sam noted darkly, nearly reading his mind and Don agreed silently. Even after all these years, they still didn't really get along with each other.

"You don't think it's too soon?" Don asked, but he knew how he felt about it.

"I don't think we need to follow the normal courtship rituals," Sam noted blithely. She set her newspaper down on the table, and continued in a more serious tone. "I know that I love you. I don't need to wait."

"I'll move in," Don agreed, rising to his feet. He crossed to the other side of the table, and leaned down to press a tender kiss to Sam's lips. "And I love you, too."

* * *

"Fifteen minutes!"

Shouts of 'Dad' and 'That's not fair' sounded from the direction of the girls' bedrooms, but Mike held the line.

"Rachel, you have enough makeup on already, and Noelle you're just stalling to avoid your math test," he roared back. His assessment was met with silence, and he gave himself a little pat on the back. They would be ready, or he would go back there to find out why. He was a ninja – and he was not afraid of 'girl stuff'.

He returned to the kitchen counter to put together a sandwich for Noelle. Rachel refused to take a bag lunch, but Noelle still enjoyed a treat from home. He finished the mayo with a flourish, and settled the sandwich, cut neatly in triangles, into a plastic container to keep it from squishing. "Martha Stewart, look out," he murmured to himself.

The front door opened, startling him a little. Juliet arrived in the kitchen, bags under her eyes revealing her lack of sleep.

"Are you just getting home?" Mike questioned sharply, and Juliet nodded vaguely in his direction. She headed straight for the coffee maker, but he cut her off by stepping in the way.

"Mike, I need a little caffeine here," Juliet groused, trying to step around him. He put out his arm to block her, and she finally looked at his face. She nearly reared back at his furious expression.

"No, you need sleep," he stated, his jaw starting to tense. Juliet's eyes moved away from his, and Mike tried not to feel the ache inside as she avoided him.

"Mike …," Juliet began tiredly. She was exhausted, and she didn't want to argue with him. She didn't have the energy for his emotion right now. Later, when things were more settled …

"Are you coming to Noelle's recital?" Mike asked, his question seeming to come out of the blue to his wife who was nearly weaving on her feet.

"What?" she responded weakly, wracking her brain to come up with the right information. Recital?

"Noelle's piano recital," Mike retorted, enunciating very carefully each and every syllable.

"I have a meeting with a senator tonight," Juliet noted, her forehead puckered into a frown as she remembered the appointment. At the very end of his rope, Mike swept the coffee maker off the counter with one swipe of his hand. The glass, metal and plastic hit the floor like a bomb, sending fragments shooting everywhere.

"Mike!" Juliet shrieked, diving back and away from him. Her heart hammered in her chest as she nearly gagged on her sudden terror. Never had he been violent. Never. What was …?

"Noelle needs you," he growled at her, his voice tight and angry.

"I have a meeting," Juliet replied faintly, and when Mike stepped towards her she staggered back … away from him. He froze, finally reading the stark fear in her eyes.

"Jules …," Mike said, his tone gentle now. He reached out a hand, but Juliet looked at it as though it was a coiled snake. After a moment, he let his arm drop to his side.

"I'm going … upstairs," Juliet reported solemnly. She backed out of the room carefully, and hurried up to the bedroom. Mike listened to the door slam shut, and then the sound of furniture being propped against it. He hung his head, leaning his right hip against the counter, and let the sense of defeat and shame wash over him.

* * *

Screwdriver in hand, Leo stepped back to admire his handiwork. He didn't think Don could have done any better.

"This is a death bolt lock?" a feminine voice inquired from behind him, and Leo turned to view Sen's puzzled expression.

"Dead bolt," he corrected. "And it is just one line of defense. The new security system will help, too," he added, nodding to the small plastic panel mounted on the wall near the front door.

Sen nodded, but she still had her arms crossed over her torso as though chilled. "All these things – just to feel safe," she noted unhappily. "Never did I know such fear on my home world."

"Well, New York is a little rougher," Leo responded, bending down to tuck the screwdriver back into his toolbox. He had come over this morning to do some final security changes to Sen's bookstore. "I think you're all set."

She glanced around at the changes to her store. Bars over the windows, and a gate of metal to pull in front of her door, a new security system, and deadly locks on her doors – she straightened up and forced her arms down.

"Thank you for all of your advice and kind assistance," Sen said, offering Leo a slight bow.

Leo smiled a little, and bowed in response. He had done what he could. Both he and Raph had watched the store for the past few nights, and they had managed to prevent most of the damage, but he had to sleep some time. He hoped these precautions would make his neighbor feel somewhat safer.

Moving over to a little hotplate behind the counter, Sen lifted up a bright yellow kettle. "Tea?" she offered, and Leo nodded. Leaning against the counter a few minutes later with a cup of fragrant tea in his hands, Leo decided it was now or never.

"I thought perhaps you might like to join me at my niece's piano recital," he said nervously, toying with the delicate cup. Sen looked up from her tea, and tilted her head at his request. "It's tonight," he added, and then internally kicked himself. She would be busy, or completely uninterested …

"Yes, I would like to go," Sen answered. Leo glanced up at her, a little surprised at her quick acceptance. She bowed her head forward, her braids hiding her profile for a moment. "I should like to meet your family," she noted with a small smile. "To see if they are all as kind as you are."

Then he wouldn't introduce her to Raph, he thought, smiling back.

* * *

"You're late," Raphael snarled as soon as she walked in.

"I had to take the bus," Rachel shot back, her mood rapidly deteriorating. Mike hadn't been able to drive her today because it was Noelle's performance tonight. She had wanted to talk to her mom, but Juliet hadn't been there after school – surprise, surprise.

And now here she was with Raph, who would call her a kid repeatedly for an hour as he tossed her to the mat.

"Don't lip off to me," Raph ground out, rounding on her in the training room. "I'm your sensei, and you will show a little respect." He shoved her – hard. Seeing red, Rachel threw herself at him, taking Raph by surprise with her furious assault. She swept at his legs with a vicious kick, and when he went down, she went with him.

Raph waited a moment, his shell on the floor and Rachel's weight on his plastron. He just needed his air back, and then he would deal with this crazy kid. "Have you lost your mind?" he breathed, just a little shocked.

"Yes, I'm nuts!" she shouted down into his face. Her hair was in wild disarray, and tears were beginning to track down her face causing her makeup to run in strange lines over her pale cheeks. "And Mike and Mom aren't talking, and Noelle cries all the time, and you always," she punctuated the word by slamming a fist into his right shoulder. "Always call me a kid!"

Having taken enough abuse for now, Raph rolled them over and pinned the girl to the floor, his hands around her slight wrists.

"What the hell …?" Raph started, feeling like the world had tilted. He stared down into her face, and tried to get a handle on where this was coming from.

"I'm fifteen," she said, her anger starting to waver away under the weight of pain. "You were fighting the Foot clan at fifteen. You want me to train like a warrior, then stop treating me like a child," she sobbed. She turned her head to the side, knowing that she had just lost that argument by weeping like a baby in front of him. Raph eased up his grip, and moved off of her. He sat up, and gathered the girl into his arms.

He wished, very sincerely, that Leo were here. Somehow Leo knew how to handle this shit better than he did. He rubbed a hand over Rachel's back and let her cry on his t-shirt. That, at least, he knew how to do.

"It's okay," Raph offered, holding her tightly.

"No it's not. It's not okay," she argued in a watery voice. Raph nodded his head against her soft hair, and inside he kind of had to agree with her.


	7. 6

Title: Moth and Flame – The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series

Author: Jayde

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Seven years have passed since the events of 'Rest in Peace'.

Credits: Sassy rules the universe. It's a secret so don't tell.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended. Okay, well, not much harm. Psychological harm.

Author's Notes:

Reluctant Dragon: Yes, only ten chapters. And the angst is building.

Pacphys: A shopping trip for Rachel! What a good idea … Unfortunately, I don't know who she would shop with. I can't see her shopping with Raph … Well, not without laughing hysterically.

Fallen Hikari: I'm flattered that you're jealous of me. I'm blushing and stuff.

To everyone who is stopping by to review: Reinbeauchaser, chibi-rose-angel, Lunar-ninja … you guys make it worthwhile.

Chapter 6:

Two years ago …

"I can't thank you enough for coming Juliet," Bill said, putting the last box of flyers into the back of a van. He dusted off his hands, and looked up at the leaden sky. "Not everyone's willing to work in the rain." He glanced back at her, and scrubbed at his silvery gray beard. "Don't suppose you'd like to come on with us full-time?"

"Oh, I don't really have the time," Juliet insisted, smiling. She really liked Bill, and she believed in what they were doing – trying to get real change in the laws that affected the aliens now living on their planet. "I've got the kids, and Mike …"

"All the more reason to help us out," Bill countered. He sat down on the back bumper of the van, giving his legs a rest. "I'm an old man, Juliet. I can't fight all this by myself."

Juliet shook her head at his blatant bid for sympathy. "I'll think about it, and talk it over with Mike."

"You do that," Bill said, rubbing at his aching knee. "'Cause God knows I could use you."

* * *

If you had to choose your greatest fear, it might just be getting up to perform in front of a crowd of people. Noelle, waiting the wings before going onto a small stage in front of friends, family, and perfect strangers, shared that terror.

She heard her name, a scattering of applause, and then stepped out into the light. For a moment, she felt sick. What if she forgot the piece she was to play? What if she tripped and fell in her new shoes? The panic filled her as she looked out at the audience gathered together on folding chairs. The sea of faces seemed to be threatening, until she saw someone familiar. A wide, green face beamed up at her. Noelle straightened her spine, and walked to the piano bench. Sitting down carefully, she placed her fingertips on the smooth keys. She could do this. Noelle started to play.

Mike, sitting in the audience between Rachel and Raph, watched as Noelle's blue dress started to waver away through a liquid haze. He wiped at his eyes, hoping no one would notice he was crying. He couldn't help it, though. He wondered if this was what Master Splinter had felt at times – when they had defeated the Shredder, or simply did their best in the practice room. When Noelle finished, he stood up, not caring if it was bad form to give a standing ovation at a little piano recital. He felt Rachel and Raph stand with him, and he could hear Sam whistling shrilly from just behind him. Noelle bowed, her face bright red in response to her family's display.

"Woo!" Rachel shouted as Noelle left the stage. "She was great!" Rachel enthused to Mike. He put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a friendly squeeze. It was a fantastic moment that had to be shared.

The only thing missing was Juliet.

After all the students had performed, there was a small reception in an adjoining banquet room. Sam had nearly run over a couple of pedestrians to get to the hotel on time for the recital – giving Don at least one cardiac incident on the way over. It couldn't be helped, though. She had to stop and pick up a bouquet of flowers. It wasn't her fault the florist had been slow – she had flashed her badge to get him to hurry up. But it was worth it when she handed the flowers to Noelle.

"Congratulations," Sam offered. The girl took the flowers, and then threw her arms around Sam's neck. Sam grinned, and returned the hug. "Do you remember me?" Sam asked, flabbergasted.

"Of course I do," Noelle replied, letting go to look up into the face she remembered from so long ago. Here was the woman who had helped start her life over again – who had brought her to her father. "Thank you," Noelle said sincerely. "For everything you did for us."

Sam blinked a few times, and her smile went awry for a moment. If she ever had a doubt again that she had done some good somewhere along the line … Well, she would remember this. Sam swallowed around a lump in her throat, and Don stepped forward to embrace Noelle.

"You were wonderful," he complimented.

"Thanks, Uncle Don," Noelle said, dropping an affectionate kiss on his cheek. Sam, now recovered a little from her emotions, found herself face to face with Raphael.

"Hello," Sam tried, if only for Don's sake.

"Did you bring your gun?" Raph questioned, taking his time to check out her dress. Sam rolled her eyes.

"I left it in the car. Think I should go get it?" she retorted. Don chose that moment to place his hand on the small of her back, and steer her towards less troubled waters.

"I see Leo," he interrupted. Raph watched them walk away towards the buffet table, and turned his attention back to Mike and the girls. Mike was listening attentively as Noelle chattered about her new plans to go Julliard, and Rachel was making eyes at some pimply-faced boy across the room.

"Hey," Raphael said quietly, nudging the teen's arm with his elbow and nearly knocking her off balance in her high heels. "It works better if you go over there and talk to him."

"No way," Rachel argued immediately. "You think?" she asked, rethinking her position.

"Go," Raph instructed, giving her a light shove. She tottered off, and Raph made a conscious effort not to watch. Instead, he concentrated on Mike. "You okay, bro?"

"Yeah, of course," Mike responded as Noelle wandered over to where Sam and Don were talking to Leo and his date. "Can you get over that?" he said, nodding to the rest of the family and changing the topic.

Raph turned, and studied the group through narrowed eyes. "She's blue," he said bluntly.

"And tall," Mike added, picking up his drink from the nearby table and taking a sip.

"She talks weird," Raph continued, warming to the theme.

"She's an alien," Mike noted blandly. Raph lifted a bottle of beer to his mouth, and then nearly choked on his first sip.

"They're holding hands," he said, obviously disgusted.

"Leo looks happy," Mike sighed, and Raph glanced over at Mike, concerned. He set down his beer, and put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I know things are bad right now," Raph started, but someone across the room caught his attention. "But maybe things are lookin' up." Raph took Mike by the shoulders and turned him around. On the other side of a sea of people, Mike saw her.

"Jules," he breathed.

* * *

"Mom!"

Noelle hurried over to her mother, dodging around a waiter, and arrived at the same moment as her father. "I can't believe you're here," Noelle cried, and Juliet pulled her into an embrace.

"I'm sorry I missed seeing you play," Juliet said, stroking Noelle's hair tenderly. She looked over at Mike. "I really am sorry." Mike just nodded; feeling a little like someone had removed some of the oxygen from the room. She had come after all.

"Juliet."

She turned her head, and her eyes widened with recognition. "Oh my God. Sam!" Juliet shouted happily. She reached out and tugged on Sam's sleeve to add her to the hug, squeezing Noelle in the middle. "It's been so long …" Juliet let go of the two only to find herself staring up into an unusual pair of glittering eyes.

"Juliet, this is Sen," Leo introduced, and Juliet put out her hand immediately. Sen took it gravely.

"It's very nice to meet you, Sen," Juliet said.

"Damned aliens," someone muttered from just behind them, and Juliet started a little, letting go of Sen's fingers. "Can't get away from them," another voice added disagreeably. Before anyone else could react, Juliet had whipped around to face the speakers.

"No, you can't," she spat at the two men, who reared back in surprise. "So why don't you try accepting instead of spewing your hatred and bigotry everywhere." Mike made a grab for her arm, but Juliet shook him off. "I can't believe you would stand here and call them 'damned aliens' where they can hear you. Have you no empathy for other living beings?" Her voice had started to rise in volume, attracting the attention of others throughout the room. Noelle shrank back, embarrassed by her mother's attack.

"Juliet, let it go," Leo stated calmly, but she ignored him.

"No, I'm sick of letting it go. I'd like an answer to my question," Juliet demanded.

"Just take your freaky friends and go home," the first man replied. Sam slipped in between them swiftly before the confrontation reached a new level.

"What say we all go back to our corners?" Sam suggested. She faced the two men, and shifted her jacket aside a little to show them her badge. "No hard feelings, right?" she added frostily. The two backed off, and Sam watched them disappear to the far side of the room.

Seeming to come out of a trance, Juliet glanced around at everyone. "I …" she began tentatively.

"God, Mom, what's wrong with you?" Rachel accused, standing beside Noelle. Juliet could see, now, that her younger daughter was crying.

"Party's over," Raph said, draining the last of his beer.

* * *

It was a painfully long car ride from the hotel. The silence between the four occupants was so heavy Mike literally slumped under the weight. When the car stopped, Noelle dived out first and barely waited for Mike to unlock the door before fleeing into her bedroom. The door slammed hard enough to rattle pictures down the hall, but Mike did not make any objection. He tossed his keys into the dish on the hall table, and retreated to the kitchen.

Juliet followed at a cautious distance, and stood in the doorway to the kitchen for a moment, still in her light coat.

"I know this has been difficult on all of you," Juliet started in a vague manner. Her shoulder hit the doorframe as Rachel pushed her way past and into the room. The teenager spun around and snarled at her mother in an excellent imitation of her aggressive uncle.

"What? Are you going to say you're _sorry_, again!"

Juliet glanced over at Mike, but he wasn't even looking her way. He was standing by the fridge, holding a piece of paper in his hands and looking at it fixedly.

"Save it, Mom. We've heard it a hundred times already, and we know it means _nothing_!" Rachel continued to rage, her hands curled into fists at her sides.

"Rachel, go to your room," Juliet attempted. She wanted to talk to Mike, and then she would patch things up with Noelle. She couldn't figure out where all this rage was coming from with Rachel.

"No," Rachel replied coldly, and Juliet straightened her spine and stepped clear of the doorway.

"I am your mother, and I expect …"

"No, you're not my mother," Rachel retorted viciously. "You haven't been my mother for months."

Struggling to find something to say, Juliet turned for help. "Mike, would you …?"

"You can't even talk to me anymore!" Rachel shouted, the raw emotion starting to show in her voice. She charged out, nearly knocking Juliet over, and wrenched open the front door. It shut a moment later, and the apartment was left quiet once again.

"Are you just going to stand there!" Juliet cried at Mike's still form. "Rachel just ran out of here in the middle of the night!"

Finally, Mike turned to look at her, but his eyes were dead and cold. "Why don't you go after her?"

"I … I have to be at a midnight rally …" Juliet watched as Mike's eyes closed momentarily, and he almost smiled.

"Sure. A rally. Absolutely," he said bitterly. He laid the paper on the kitchen table, and moved toward her. "Good. You go to your rally," he added, giving her a wide berth on his way out. "Just _go_."

The front door opened and shut again. Not certain that her legs would hold her; Juliet pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. In front of her rested the mystery paper. She dragged it over with numb fingers and read it – it was an award certificate for the recital. In the emptiness, Juliet could just make out the sound of Noelle crying in her bedroom.


	8. 7

Title: Moth and Flame – The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series

Author: Jayde

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Seven years have passed since the events of 'Rest in Peace'.

Credits: Sassy, for beta reading and generally being awesome.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended. Okay, well, not much harm. Psychological harm.

Author's Notes: I know. All these updates! I'm at home with a sick child today, and I have a lot of time on my hands. Thank you, everyone, for the wonderful, thoughtful and numerous reviews.

Chapter 7:

Two years earlier …

"So, you're gonna teach here?" Noelle asked, scuffing the toe of her tennis shoe back and forth on the floor as she stood shyly in the doorway.

Leo, working to unbolt a ballet bar from the wall without damaging the mirrors, grunted something unintelligible in response. It was one of those strange circumstances that occasionally happen in families – the two least communicative relatives were forced to be together. Mike and Juliet had dropped off Rachel and Noelle at the new school. Rachel was in with Raphael getting her first lesson with her new sensei, which left Noelle to stand around and wait.

"Could I help?" Noelle offered, and Leo paused in his task to glance back at her. Nine-years-old, her legs too long for her body, and her eyes on the floor – Leo thought back to his own childhood for a moment.

"Sure," he replied, and saw her head come up as she looked at him with surprise. "Come over and hold the bar up."

Uncertainly, Noelle crossed the room to where Leo was kneeling on the wood floor. She took a hold of the bar with both hands.

"Just steady it there," Leo instructed. He went back to work with his wrench again, forcing the bolts to move with brute strength. "Don't drop it on me," he admonished when the bar tilted a little. Noelle redoubled her efforts, and leaned her weight against it.

A couple of things happened simultaneously. The bolt popped free, Raphael shouted suddenly – his voice booming from across the hall, and Noelle lost her grip on the bar. She gasped, scrambling to keep it from falling, but then it wasn't. It was staying in place.

Noelle looked over, and saw Leo's hand on the bar. She offered him a sheepish smile. "Sorry," she said softly.

Leo, still keeping the bar in place, stood up with a deep sigh. "Think you could get the other end?" Noelle nodded, and raced over to grab the far end of the heavy, wood bar. Following his lead, Noelle helped wrestle the bar on to the floor without dropping it. "Okay. Good," Leo complimented, straightening up again.

"Uncle Leo?"

"Hmm," Leo responded, wondering what to do with the bar now that he had it off the wall. It wasn't going to fit in the dumpster …

"Who's going to be my sensei?" Noelle queried. "When, you know, Dad isn't doing it anymore?"

Leo smiled at her. "If it's okay with you, I would like to be your sensei."

"Yeah?" Noelle beamed back at him. "Yeah," she agreed, really quite happily.

* * *

Every once in a while, Mike thought that they should have moved out of New York and to a small town – maybe even a farm.

This was one of those times.

He had searched for the past half hour, and there was no sign of Rachel. He had called her friends from his cell phone as he walked the streets near their apartment building, but none of them knew where she was. He was getting desperate, so he called Raph.

"So she just took off?" Raph questioned over the phone.

"She fought with Juliet, and I … I just gotta find her," Mike responded anxiously, pausing under a streetlight.

"Hey, Mikey, she'll be okay. She's a tough kid, and she knows what to do to protect herself. I made sure of that," Raph reassured him. "I'm gonna go look for her right now. Stay in touch."

Mike rang off, and tucked the phone into his jacket pocket as a light rain started. He started walking again, hoping that Raphael was right, and that she was prepared to be out on the streets alone – at least until he could bring her home.

Miles away, Raph was rushing down the stairs to get his bike. He opened the back door, and froze. Sitting on the step in the dark, still in her dress from the recital, was Rachel. She peered up at him, her eyes red and puffy.

"I couldn't think where else to go," she admitted, her voice rough from crying.

"Get in here," Raph ordered, moving out of the way. Rachel stood up a little unsteadily, and ducked inside. Raph shut the door, and pointed her into the kitchen. Rachel sat down on a stool at the island, and Raph wet a paper towel in the sink, and handed it to her. "Put that on your eyes. You look like hell."

Rachel complied without protest, and Raph went to the fridge, fetching two sodas. He put them on the island, and pushed one over to her.

"Mike's freakin' out," he noted, resting on a stool and watching her as she wiped at her eyes. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No," Rachel replied shortly.

"Good," Raph shot back, opening his soda and taking a long drink. "'Cause I got somethin' to say." Raphael waited until she looked up at him to continue. "You can't fix 'em, so quit tryin'." Rachel responded with a puzzled look. "If they're gonna split up, or work it out – you can't change it. You just gotta roll with it."

Rachel's forehead wrinkled into a deep frown. "But I don't want them to …"

"It don't matter what you want," Raph said, overriding her. "You gotta let 'em take care of it on their own." He opened her soda, and prodded it a little closer to her, nodding for her to drink. Once she took a sip, he went on. "No matter what happens, Rach, you're still family. If it gets so bad you can't stand it, you can stay here. We got room." Rachel's eyes widened at the offer. "Noelle, too, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel agreed, stunned. "You know," she added, toying with her soda can. "You sounded like Master Splinter just now. Well, not exactly," Rachel corrected. "But kinda like him."

"Yeah?" Raph questioned, his expression pleased. He nodded, and drank from his soda can. "Yeah. Guess I'm gettin' wise in my old age."

* * *

Pausing underneath a couple of trees for a little shelter from the downpour, Mike wiped his wet hand on his pants before grasping his cell phone to answer it.

"Yeah," he said shortly, peering out under the brim of his baseball cap at the rain.

"She's here."

Mike closed his eyes, and leaned against the trunk of the tree for a moment as the relief flooded him. "Thanks, Raph. Should I come get her?"

"Nah, let her stay here tonight," Raph replied. "I'll bring her by in the morning."

"Thanks, bro. Really, thanks," Mike offered. He hung up, and rested his head against the bark. He was soaked to the skin, exhausted from searching, but he didn't really want to go home. To go back to the apartment again meant having to face Juliet – potentially. And he didn't know what to say anymore.

But Noelle was there, and Noelle needed him. Mike pushed away from the tree, and stepped onto the sidewalk again. The drops pelted him away from the protection of the leaves and branches, and he tucked his head down a bit as he walked. It took him a few moments to realize that a car horn was blaring from right beside him.

He stopped and turned, hands automatically reaching under his jacket for the nunchucks he kept out of sight.

"Mike!"

He knew that voice, and relaxed a fraction. "Amber?" he queried loudly, trying to be heard above the pounding rain.

"Get in the car!" she shouted back. A trifle uncertain, but anxious to get out of the rain, Mike obliged and headed through the wet grass to the car. He opened the door, and gingerly sat down. He knew he was getting the seat wet.

"Hey," he said, once he was settled. He took off his baseball cap and wiped a hand over his brow. Amber started up her car again, and struggled to peel off her jacket. Once she was free of it, she held it out to Mike.

"Take it, and dry off a little," she insisted. Mike accepted it with a nod, and wiped off his head. There was a trace of perfume in the clothing – something floral and sweet – and he put the jacket down on the console between them. "It's raining cats and dogs," Amber noted, craning to see through her windshield. "What are you doing out here?"

"Taking a walk," Mike lied. He wasn't about to share Rachel's running away. Amber turned her head and studied him very seriously. He realized that there wasn't much of a secret here. She had been at the recital, after all. "I'm sorry about the reception," he offered.

"It's alright. Is Noelle okay?" Amber asked, relaxing back against the car seat. Mike nodded, his eyes drifting down to his wet jeans. They were damned uncomfortable right now. "Are you okay?" That question got his attention back.

"Sure. Yeah," he responded vaguely.

"I know it's none of my business, but if you need someone to talk to … I feel like we're friends, because of Noelle," she rambled. Mike frowned as he tried to follow along. "I just don't like to see everyone upset," she finished. Mike remained silent, uncertain what to say. "Would you have coffee with me tomorrow? Please?"

Mike sighed. What would it hurt? And maybe it would be good to talk with someone. "Okay."

"Great. I'll drive you home," Amber said, facing the windshield again.

"I can walk," Mike objected, but they both could see that the rain hadn't let up in the slightest while they spoke together.

"I'm not going to leave you here. It's only a few more blocks," Amber argued successfully. Mike sat back, and put on his seatbelt.

* * *

"Alien rights now! Alien rights now!"

The chant was piercingly loud, and Juliet stared from the courthouse steps at the large crowd they had gathered for the rally. She felt the excitement that permeated all of these events flowing through her – charging her batteries again. It was here – the energy for change existed in this space and time.

She glanced across the street, hearing another chant starting up. Her face fell as she recognized the signs. A small group of alien haters had come together to counter protest. Juliet motioned to Bill, and he nodded in response. He had seen them, too. From her higher elevation, Juliet watched as some of the participants in her rally turned towards the protesters. A shouting match started between the two sides, and Juliet glanced hurriedly at Bill.

He didn't return her gaze. His eyes were fixed on the scene unfolding before them. Juliet glanced back, and saw people she recognized – people she worked with every day – start across the street.

"No!" she shouted, but went unheard above the din. She rushed down a couple of steps, and tried to push through the crowd.

Distantly, she could hear the fight start. The chanting was now punctuated with shrieks and yells. Juliet ducked between two people and struggled for the street. She had to stop this. It wasn't supposed to go this way.

The crowd suddenly gave in front of her, and Juliet stumbled to the curb edge, pin wheeling her arms to keep from falling to the pavement. On the street lay two men, battered and bloodied. Sirens approached from somewhere to the east, and Juliet wavered a little, her hand to her mouth. She felt her gorge rising, and fought not to throw up.

* * *

"I can't believe it was there all along," Sam mused, four open files in front of her, spread across a wooden table marred with deep scratches. The mellow light in the room made the walls recede into distant shadow as Sam leaned over the table.

"It's not like they were carrying membership cards. Not that I blame them," Dan noted wryly. "Who wants to admit they're in a human supremacy group?" Sam looked up to give her old friend an appreciative grin.

"I owe you," she stated. "This may crack the case for me." Sam was over the moon pleased – each of the victims did have something in common after all. They were part of a group that was campaigning to have the aliens evicted from the city – not to mention the planet.

"You can take me out to dinner," Dan replied lightly, and Sam's smile softened.

"Sure, I think we're free on Thursday," she noted, and observed thoughtfully as his eyes flickered away from hers.

"We, huh?" Dan said, rubbing at his hair – an old tick that gave away his discomfort.

"It bothers you, doesn't it?" Sam asked, sitting down on the edge of the table, careful not to disturb the victim files. "Me and Don?" She wanted it out in the open.

"I just worry about you," Dan responded vaguely. Sam shook her head, and hung on to the edge of the table with both hands. She fought down her temper – Don had given her some good advice on how to keep from flying off the handle, and she was going to use it.

"I don't need you to worry about me," Sam retorted. Of course, she would probably need a lot more work before she had her temper in hand entirely. "Do you need to be reassigned to another case?" she queried in a sharp and serious tone. Nothing should get in the way of the investigation.

"No," Dan said, turning towards the door. "I'm still on the case." He headed out, and only banged the door shut marginally harder than usual. Sam deflated a little, alone now, and hung her head to look at her dress shoes with irritation.

Don had warned her that she might get some flack from friends and co-workers for being involved with an 'alien'. She had believed him, but she had not pictured getting it from Dan.

Sam kicked off her shoes, and hopped off the table. She whirled back to the folders, determined to concentrate on the things she could change – like finding this killer before he struck again. She had the connection now between the victims. The 'Earthlings First' group, based right here in New York City.


	9. 8

Title: Moth and Flame – The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series

Author: Jayde

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Seven years have passed since the events of 'Rest in Peace'.

Credits: Sassy, for beta reading and generally being awesome.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended. Okay, well, not much harm. Psychological harm.

Author's Notes:

To Sassy: I loved your volleyball story. My mom went to everything, but my dad couldn't always make it. He was very busy with work, so … Did I ever tell you that most of the plot lines in my stories reflect something from my own life?

To chibi-rose-angel: Poor Raph. (sighs dramatically) I just never get that poor guy a girlfriend. Maybe in another story, but not in this one. Sorry!

Lunar-ninja: Juliet has lost focus, I think. It's easier than you think to dive into something and forget about everything else around you. This is an extreme case (fiction and all), but I bet you probably know someone who has let a belief or obsession rule them to their detriment.

Reinbeauchaser: Thanks for the long review (2 chapters worth). The coffee maker thing was something I struggled with. It is a rare display of temper for the mild mannered turtle, but I think even he could only be pushed so far. Laughs Juliet arriving at the recital, and then blowing it. You know, I giggled like a little kid while writing that. I knew that would drive everyone up a wall.

Fallen Hikari: You, too? Yeah, I did the piano recital thing at age 12, and it was awful. I remembered the piece, but I was so nervous that I played it at the wrong speed! I'm glad you're here to deflate my head. I think right here is the spot to insert that evil laugh.

Chapter 8:

Seven and a half years earlier …

Promises to keep …

Juliet was nearly crying as she spoke aloud the words she had practiced in her mind before coming up onto the rooftop. "I promise I will always love you, and that this is only the beginning."

She choked a little, looking straight into Mike's unbelievably kind golden brown eyes. No one had ever made her feel as safe – as loved – as he had in the brief time they had been together. "I promise to stick by you, and listen to you, and laugh at your jokes." She heard Casey mutter something, but she ignored it. The only thing in her sights at this moment was Mike, and the rest of their lives.

"My turn?" Mike asked her gently, and she nodded.

The tears were blurring her vision, but it was okay. The rain was fine, too. It could have been hailing, and her heart still would have been too full to speak. .

"I can't make you a lot of promises," he began. "I don't have anything to offer other than what I've already been doing. I promise I'll be here for you, no matter what," Mike continued, and his dear face started to blur again. She wiped at the tears ineffectually with her hand. "I'll look after you, and Rachel and Noelle."

Her hand was trembling where it rested in his. "I love you, Juliet."

* * *

Sitting down gingerly on the edge of the small sofa, Mike winced at the shrill screams of his conscience. He didn't need to be here, and he should just get up and leave. Never mind making an excuse to Amber, who was right now putting together a tray in the kitchen. It was generous of her to lend an ear to his problems, but he would be better off taking it to Leo. Leo would make him spar, and he could get all of it out in the practice room.

Amber returned, and settled a tray with two cups of coffee, and all the fixings, on the coffee table in front of him. She sat down next to him on the increasingly tiny sofa, her left thigh pressed warmly to his. He jumped a little as her arm brushed his – she leaned forward to get a cup of coffee, and smiled at him.

"Help yourself," she said, sitting back. She crossed her legs nonchalantly, her fluttery skirt riding up above her knee.

Mike swallowed, and concentrated on his coffee. He was only human … Okay, he wasn't, but he was healthy and normal and just looking. And he really needed to get back home.

"Relax, Mike. I'm not going to bite you," she offered in a teasing tone. She sipped her coffee, and then regarded him more seriously. "Noelle did a fantastic job at the recital."

"Yeah," Mike enthused, back on comfortable ground. He could rattle on about the girls for hours. "She wants to go to Julliard," he added, leaning back to enjoy his coffee, heavy on the sugar and cream.

"I think she can do it," Amber considered. "It will be hard work, but she is talented and determined. The cost though …"

"I'll get another job," Mike said, shrugging. He would, too. If Noelle wanted a prestigious music school, then he would see that it happened. Amber lightly touched his arm, and he glanced at her in surprise.

"That's what makes you a great father," she offered, and then looked down at her hand. She didn't remove it though. "My father thought music was a waste of time. He cut me off when I chose it as a major in college."

"I'm sorry," Mike said, uncertain of what else to say in the face of this confession. He did attempt to relax a little. She was being friendly, and that was all. Everything else could be laid at the door of his own messed up emotions. Nothing more.

"I'm just glad Noelle will never have to go through that," Amber choked out, and Mike was startled to see that his daughter's piano teacher was crying.

"Oh, hey," Mike said, setting down his coffee and turning towards her. Doing what he would have done for anyone else, Mike wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug. "It's okay," he assured her, rubbing her back a little. He felt her hands slide up his biceps, and rest on his shoulders. Her face burrowed against his neck, and he gasped aloud when he felt her lips brush against his skin. He shivered when her tongue darted out to lick lightly against his sensitive flesh.

Every alarm bell in his psyche shrieked at him, but he did not heed them. Stronger was the pain in his heart and mind. More powerful was his desire to escape the misery for a little while. He leaned into her welcoming embrace, temptation beckoned, and Mike fell.

* * *

"Ouch!"

"What happened?" Sam questioned, hurrying over to where Don leaned against the wall, holding his right hand gingerly against his chest. A box of books sat on the floor at his feet. It was moving day. Don and Sam had spent the past few hours bringing his things over to the apartment. They had started in the morning at the house with the loading. For a wonder, Leo had only made one pointed threat when Don was out of earshot. Of course, the threat had involved the use of the business end of his katana and her neck if Don was unhappy for so much as a nanosecond.

She didn't need the reminder. The fifteen similar statements from Raphael had made it clear where Don's brothers stood.

"I hit my finger on the doorframe," Don confessed, grimacing. Sam tugged on his wrist until he let her look at his injured digit.

"Oh, it looks bad," she teased. Don frowned, and tried to take his hand back, but she hung on. Sam bent forward, and placed a gentle kiss on his finger. "Better?" she asked, grinning up into his face. The corners of his mouth twitched a bit as he fought an oncoming smile.

"I might require a little more first aid," he noted softly, and Sam shivered at the look in his dark eyes.

"Not until we get everything moved in," she tried, knowing all was lost when Don put his arms around her to pull her close. "Your books," she protested, but he stopped her with a heated kiss.

"My books will wait," he replied a few moments later. He backed her steadily towards his desk, just recently ensconced in the spare bedroom that they had designated for his home office. When they reached it, he lifted her up to sit on the edge. Don leaned in, an arm at her back to steady her, and kissed her thoroughly.

"We do," she said, when she was allowed to breathe. "Have a dinner engagement."

Don groaned, and rested his forehead on her shoulder. Sam laughed, and patted his shell in a mock-comforting way.

"Your boss' dinner party," Don noted, his voice muffled against her t-shirt.

"And we have to shower, and change," Sam added. Don raised his head, brushing her hair into her face, and she bit her lip at the wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Did you say 'shower'?" he queried brightly.

* * *

Leo watched the two police cruisers pull away from the curb, and vanish up the street with the rest of the passing traffic. His eyes returned to the bookstore across the street, and his expression morphed into a cold glare.

Last night, while they had been at the recital, someone had coated the front of Sen's store with profanity and threats. The vulgar display had greeted them this morning when they came down to open up for business. Turning around, Leo walked back into the martial arts school. Inside, he found Sen sitting on one of the chairs in the viewing area for the parents of his students. He squatted down beside her chair, and looked up into her unusual, but to his eyes very beautiful, face.

"I'm sorry," he offered, feeling that the words were inadequate in the face of the vandalism. "If I had been here …"

"You must not think that way," Sen interrupted, almost rudely. "It … it is not your fault, Leonardo. You have done so much already …" She paused, and closed her eyes. "I am sorry. I am too emotional to communicate properly," she explained, and Leo wondered if he would always find her verbal expressions as endearing as he did right now. He took her hands in his, and caressed the slender fingers – so unlike his own.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her. To his surprise, she slipped off the chair and to her knees. Sen leaned in and rested her forehead against his temple in a gesture of affection that made his pulse race.

That was how Raphael found them a few moments later. He cleared his throat loudly, and Sen jumped back as though she had been caught committing a minor felony. Leo frowned at Raph, ungrateful for the interruption.

"Store's clear. They didn't get in," Raph said. He had gone in to see if the damage extended inside. He waited silently as his brother stood up, assisting the blue alien to her feet as well.

"Thanks, bro," Leo replied. Sen bowed politely to Raphael, and he nodded briefly in return.

"Now what?" Raph questioned. In his opinion, they ought to go find the kids behind it, and bang some heads together.

"We can start repainting the front tomorrow. I don't have any classes," Leo stated, but Sen was shaking her head wearily.

"Should I not just give up?" she asked quietly. She looked over at her small business, and she felt nauseous at the words written there in splashes of red – like blood. "I do not think I wish to live like this."

* * *

There are moments when clarity comes like a rifle shot. It could be in a church, or a hospital, or in your car on your way to work. But it hits like lightening, and it burns you right through to your soul because you realize just how badly you have fucked up.

For Juliet Hamato, it was the key in the front door lock, and her partner and husband walking in and going upstairs without saying a word to her. It was afternoon, and the girls would be home in a little over half an hour.

And Mike had been gone all day.

She glanced down at the piles of papers on the kitchen table, and she knew in her heart that something was dreadfully wrong. Perhaps it was a dormant sixth sense, or just the old adage that the spouse always knows. The number of papers doubled and tripled as tears welled in her eyes to tamper with her vision. Juliet put her face in her hands, and wept openly.

Her marriage, her cause, her commitments, and her faith in herself had been shaken to their very foundations.

Juliet heard the shower start, and tried to get a hold of her self. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe there was still something left to save.

Upstairs, standing under the stinging needles of the hottest water he could stand, Mike closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool tile. He didn't think he had ever felt worse than he did right now. No defeat handed from the foot, no evil prank from Raph, had ever made him feel so diminished. He had broken his word, and dishonored his marriage – never mind that it wasn't legally binding. Mike was suddenly glad that Master Splinter wasn't alive to see how far he had fallen.

He slid down the wall, and knelt in the bottom of the tub as the water temperature cooled. A mere shower could not wash it away. He could still feel her silky pale arms around him, and smell her floral perfume. He gagged, scrambling out of the tub with a thump and skidding over to the toilet. He threw up, and then sank back onto the now wet floor.

Separated by a distance of wood, concrete, and despair, two individuals who had once been very much in love, cried alone.


	10. 9

Title: Moth and Flame – The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series

Author: Jayde

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Seven years have passed since the events of 'Rest in Peace'.

Credits: Sassy, for beta reading and generally being awesome.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended. Okay, well, not much harm. Psychological harm.

Author's Notes: A ton of reviews, and new reviewers. (And a lot of 'Mikey! Noooo!')

Gemdrive2000 – Ooh, you've read the stuff on my site. Cool. I so rarely get comment on that stuff, so it's nice to know someone is reading it.

KLCthebookwork – I like the 'sucker punch' bit in your review. I'm adopting that, if it's okay. New stories – now with more 'sucker punch angst'.

Chibi Rose Angel – Leo and Sen are cute. I quite agree. sigh (I think this is where I insert the evil laugh)

Reluctant Dragon – You know, I almost put a warning at the beginning of the last chapter. Danger! The bottom is looming ahead. Or something. But have we reached bottom yet? Hmm.

EntropyMage – If it makes you feel better to believe Mike only kissed her, then have at it. I'm not going to argue the point. And I'm evil! Yes, yes I am.

Pacphys – I actually gave you a shout-out in this chapter. See if you can find it.

Reinbeauchaser – Jumping in the East River. (slaps forehead) Why didn't I think of that? Yes, no one for poor Raph in this whole story. Sad, that.

Chapter 9:

Hours earlier …

"Whatever happened to the golden rule?" Juliet questioned anxiously, the phone clutched to her ear as she sat in her dim kitchen. She had closed the blinds, and avoided turning on the light. It was broad daylight outside, and Mike wasn't home yet.

And she was sitting in the dark like she had just committed a crime.

"You know," she continued. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you?Bill! This is so wrong." Juliet stood up and paced back and forth in front of the sink – a circuit from the stove to the fridge. "We have to call the police."

"No!" Bill objected strongly in her ear, and Juliet stopped her pacing. "No, now I know you're upset right now, Juliet, but just calm down."

"Upset!" Juliet cried out, running a hand through her hair, encountering knots. When had she last combed it? "Bill, this is murder!"

A cold silence fell over the line between them.

"Juliet, these are good men," Bill began in an even tone.

"What about the men who are dead! Bill I can't condone this, and I won't," Juliet countered sharply. She ripped her fingers free from her hair, and waited for a response.

"For the cause …," Bill said, and even he sounded weary of this argument.

"Don't give me that! Don't tell me that what we're doing allows us to kill anyone who stands in our way," she raged at him, on the edge of tears. She had respected this man, and nearly loved him like a father while she helped him build their group into something powerful – something that could change the world. And it had all been a fairytale. "How dare you do this in the name of everything I have worked so hard for! How dare you, Bill!"

* * *

Don and Sam hurried up the sidewalk. They were late to the dinner party, even though Sam had driven like a mad woman. It was a good thing, Don reflected, that she hadn't gotten a speeding ticket seeing as she was in law enforcement.Sam mounted the first step, and then spun around to peer at Don with the minimal aid of the streetlight. She smoothed the lapels of his suit jacket, and grinned at him.

"Lookin' sharp, Dr. Hamato," she complimented. "Even if you did take too long in the shower."

Don shrugged, the jacket tightening at his shoulders and showing off the muscles he still had from years of training and fighting. "I was coerced, Lieutenant." Sam raised her eyebrow, and turned back to the door as it opened.

"Gallagher," a mostly bald man greeted cheerfully, but his smile faltered as he took in Don. "And you brought a guest."

"Yes," Sam replied. She tugged Don forward. "Chief Jameson, I would like you to meet Dr. Don Hamato. Don teaches physics at NYU." Unprepared to deal either with an alien guest, or the calm pride in his favorite lieutenant's voice, Jameson let them both in. He stepped back from the door, and Don looked over the small crowd of guests. All human. He felt Sam's fingers tighten around his in a gesture of support as they entered.

"Something to drink … Dr. Hamato?" Jameson asked, leading them over to the small bar that had been set up for the party. Don felt hostile eyes following his every move.

"Just a seltzer water, please," Don said. No way was he getting drunk in this company. He suddenly wished for his bo staff.

"Sam?" Jameson questioned.

"Same," she replied. Don noted that her eyes were busy scanning the crowd. She met and held the gaze of everyone who dared eye contact. Not once did she break the stare first. Don remembered, very suddenly and forcefully, why he had fallen in love with her. Her ferocity and tenaciousness when she felt she was in the right was something to behold.

"Dinner is served," someone called from the direction of the dining room. Jameson was relieved – the less mingling right now, the better. Samantha looked ready to draw her weapon at any moment.

Once they were all sitting down, the efforts at polite conversation began.

"Samantha," Lieutenant Hollman began from across the table, swirling his red wine around in his glass in a pretentious display. "Is your friend new to the planet? Or have you known each other for a while?" His eyes flickered towards Don, who sat just beside Sam. She was close to the head of the table – at Jameson's right side.

"We've known each other for a while," Sam replied, her eyes narrowed at Hollman. He was heading up a narcotics team, but he wanted homicide.

"Do you live near the university, Dr. Hamato?" a woman asked from further down the table. "Dreadful housing in that area."

Before Don could answer, Sam leveled the table with a precise hit. "Actually, we live on the lower West side." She sipped at her water, and observed the deep and ringing silence around the table. Sam tried to cover her amusement. She could almost see the shock and horror on the face of the woman who had asked Don where he lived.

Don bit the inside of his cheek to keep from commenting. One day, Sam's temper was going to cost her another job.

"Yes, well, the prime rib is wonderful everyone. Eat up," Jameson noted loudly, filling the lull. Everyone began eating, and side conversations started around the table. Sam looked over to see Hollman smiling at her like a cat with the canary in his greedy paws. She glanced over at Jameson, but he avoided her eyes.

She looked down at her plate, but her appetite had fled. This wasn't just about Don.

Her whole career was on the line.

* * *

Looking down at his hands flat on the kitchen table, Mike waited for Juliet to speak. His throat ached from forcing out the words to describe his betrayal. He hadn't slept all night, wanting only to lay the truth in front of her. He glanced up, and looked at her profile as she sat sideways in the chair, her eyes on the sunlit kitchen window. Her hair was untidy, and her face was splotchy with crying.

And she was still so beautiful that it made his heart hurt.

She had opened the blinds this morning, desperate for something normal and good to come into the apartment again. She had been looking out at the street when Mike came in and asked to talk to her. Each and every word he had said was like a knife to her soul, but it was no less than she deserved. This was karma, wasn't it? For the lives she had ruined through her inattention – through her belief that she was right, and therefore everyone around her was right, too that no wrongs would be committed on the path to enlightening her fellow human beings. She looked down, unable to bear the sunlight any more.

"Who is she?" Juliet asked at last, her hands twisting the delicate band Mike had given her on their first anniversary. Her wedding ring, essentially.

"Amber. Noelle's piano teacher," Mike replied. He sounded and looked like he seen the inside of hell. His eyes were dull, and his hands rested listlessly on the smooth Formica surface of the table.

"Have to find her a new teacher," Juliet noted, her tone biting. Mike winced, but he didn't turn away. "Is it over?" Juliet questioned sharply.

"Yes," Mike said, and Juliet finally looked at him.

"I know I haven't been here lately, but I thought …" she started, but then stopped and put away the accusations she was about to make. Mike was hardly the only one at the table who had committed a sin. "I have to tell you about the group – something has to be done about …"

A sudden and hard knock at the door caused both of them to jump in their seats.

"I'll get it," Juliet offered, and stood up. Mike followed her to the front door.

She knew, even before she opened it, that bad news waited for her on the other side. But it could not be avoided. All the bills were coming due today.

"Juliet Sanders?" the man in the dark suit and sunglasses said when she had barely opened the door. She nodded, and only distantly heard his next words through the roaring in her ears. He had an NYPD detective's badge in plain view around his neck. "You're under arrest."

* * *

Sam stood up, and dusted off her pants. It was an occupational hazard to have to crouch over bodies from time to time. She had another victim of her serial killer – another young man beaten to death, and this time dumped in an alley. This was different than the others, which had been left on public display. This one had almost been hidden in the shadow of a dumpster.

Her detectives milled about with the crime scene investigators, taking notes, lighting up cigarettes, and talking quietly over their cups of coffee.

"So, this some crazed alien, boss?" one of the older, grizzled detectives asked. The question was punctuated by a wry chuckle, and Sam felt her temper flare. Of course it was now common knowledge in the department that she lived with Don. The jibes, and outright slanders, were bound to follow.

"More likely it was a human," Sam replied evenly. "Nothing matches the evil that men do."

"Sure you're not a little biased?" someone else questioned. Sam felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck.

"I want a report on this scene in one hour," Sam ordered, heading for the mouth of the alley. She needed to get out onto the street and away from her people before she said something she would regret. Once she had her feet on the sidewalk, she sucked in a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, she didn't startle when her phone started to ring.

"Gallagher," she answered it.

"Sam? I need your help." Mike's voice came out of the speaker, and it sounded like he had been crying.

"Mike? What's …?"

"It's Jules. Sam, she's been arrested," Mike continued anxiously.

"Where?" Sam asked, already hurrying for her car.

* * *

"Bastards," Sam seethed, storming down the hall of her precinct with a worried Mike in her wake. The FBI, working with Dan, had made a connection between Juliet's alien rights group and the killings. And they had cut her out of the information entirely.

When she got her hands on Dan …

They reached the door of an interrogation room. An FBI agent was standing by the door, speaking to an older, distinguished man in a suit. The FBI agent slid neatly in front of the doorknob before Sam could reach for it.

"Out of the way," Sam commanded.

"Lieutenant …," the FBI agent started in a placating tone, raising his hands to stop her.

"Who are you?" Sam queried sharply, turning on the suit.

"I am representing Ms. Sanders-Hamato. Her group hired me to provide counsel," the lawyer explained. Sam gritted her teeth in frustration. This slime ball wasn't here for Juliet. He was here for the group – ensuring that only Juliet went down. Not on Sam's watch.

"Mr. Hamato would like to speak with his significant other," Sam said, using her trump card. The lawyer nodded briefly, and motioned the agent out of the way. Mike stepped inside, and Sam trailed after him with a small smile, taking great satisfaction in shutting the door in the FBI agent's face.

Inside, though, there was more of a surprise waiting for her.

"Dan, get out," Sam ordered. Dan stood up from his chair across from Juliet, his face unusually pale.

"Sam, it's …," he began.

"Get. Out," she snarled, and Dan moved around the table and out the door with alacrity. He knew from long experience not to argue with Sam when she was in a certain mood.

"My client has nothing to say to you," the lawyer interjected, placing a hand on Juliet's shoulder. Mike frowned, and Juliet just sat there uncomfortably, her face pale and streaked with tears.

"I say you get out, too," Mike stated, and Sam sat down in Dan's recently vacated chair to observe. The lawyer straightened up, and tried looking down his patrician nose at Mike. That lasted for about three seconds, before the lawyer cleared his throat, and stepped out of the room with a muttered rejoinder about 'being back soon.'

Mike dropped into the chair next to Juliet's, and the two of them faced Sam across the industrial gray table.

"We don't have a lot of time," Sam said, getting straight to the point. "They wouldn't have you here for no reason, Juliet."

"I'm responsible," Juliet offered, her voice shaking. "I knew, and I did nothing." She turned wide, wet eyes on Mike. "I wanted to tell you," she choked out. "But then …" Mike looked stricken. "I'm so sorry," she added anxiously. Mike put one of his hands over hers.

"You knew. When?" Sam questioned, glancing at the clock. Time was ticking away here. She needed to track down the D.A. and see if she could get any leniency for Juliet at all.

"At the rally. Last night," she answered, glancing at Sam. "Bill … he told me about it."

"I need names, Juliet. If you cooperate with me, then I can make a deal with the district attorney," Sam explained rapidly. "But you can't hold anything back. You can't protect Bill, or anyone else. And I can't guarantee that you'll walk away."

Juliet nodded. "Alright," she agreed breathlessly. It was time to confess, and face the consequences for her actions.


	11. 10

Title: Moth and Flame – The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series

Author: Jayde

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Seven years have passed since the events of 'Rest in Peace'.

Credits: Sassy, for beta reading and supporting me in getting this done.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended. Okay, well, not much harm. Psychological harm.

Author's Notes: Final chapter, folks. Thank you all for coming along for the ride.

Reinbeauchaser – There's a surprise for you at the end of this chapter in my notes.

Pacphys – I think I write just so I can giggle over your reviews. Love the little attack on the old cop at the crime scene. Very funny, but I don't think you'd actually be able to get Raph's sai away from him. Your shout-out was when Juliet noted they would need a new piano teacher. It mimicked your comment on the same subject.

Reluctant Dragon – In working on Sam's character for this story, I realized that 7 years had to change her a little. I think she always had those traits, but she was so uncertain of herself when she was younger.

To everyone who showed up to review at any point in the story: thank you, thank you, thank you.

Chapter 10:

Months earlier …

It made all the headlines.

A supposedly peaceful group fighting for the rights of aliens was also harboring deluded madmen in its midst. And the former president of the group, a Bill Hadley, just let it happen.

The group disbanded shortly before the trials started. Two other groups – one in Washington, D.C., and one in San Francisco, California, gladly started New York chapters to snap up the supporters left behind in the scandal. The first vote in the country on whether humans and aliens should be allowed to marry will take place in California. Early poll numbers show that proposition 6 will pass by a comfortable margin.

The two men directly responsible for the murders each received three consecutive life sentences. They will likely end their lives in prison.

Bill received one life sentence for his part in the crimes. His case is currently on appeal.

* * *

Leaning one shoulder against the doorframe, Leo watched the realtor working across the street. The man had placed a large placard in the front window of the former bookstore, and now he was locking up. The windows were empty and lifeless, and he knew that the shelves inside had been stripped clean of their books.

Sen had gone back home.

She had tried life here, and found it not to her liking. The constant worry and stress from the vandalism and threats had taken their toll on the gentle alien. She wanted peace, and she would only find it on her home world.

She had suggested that he visit – any time. She had also noted the lack of a martial arts school anywhere on her world. He had smiled at that. It was a nice hint, and he appreciated the affection behind it. But he couldn't imagine leaving his family and everything he knew behind for someplace he had never been.

But then, that was what Sen had done. She just hadn't been strong enough to see it through.

A sharp rap on his shell brought Leo out of his reverie. Raph squeezed onto the step and followed Leo's gaze to the empty storefront.

"Sorry, bro," Raph offered, genuinely sympathetic. "Sorry it didn't work out." Leo nodded, his expression somber. Raph, still looking at the former bookstore, started to smile a little. "You know, I met a pair of sisters last night. Twins." Leo turned his head to look at his brother's face in profile. He would have had to be blind to miss the beginnings of a grin. "They're not blue, but …"

* * *

She had skated right up to the edge of losing her job … again. Only the media's naming of her as the hero who stopped the serial killer had rescued her. The chief was not her supporter any longer, and she knew she would be watching her back from now on.

Someone had once told her that you never get it all at once. If your career was going well, then your home life, or your love life, had to suck by comparison. It was probably about balance. Or karma. Or justice.

Sam paused on the sidewalk in front of the looming brick building surrounded by trees bright with new spring leaves. Students, many of them already in the briefest costumes possible, swarmed around her on their way to or from their last classes of the day. Sam studied them for a while. Bright, eager faces, and quick steps – they were going somewhere. Well, she was, too. She started forward again, and walked up the steps to pull open the heavy door to the science building.

Inside, the hallway was cool and dark. Her shoes clicked and clacked on the hard floor as she studied each door until she found the one marked with simple black lettering as 'Dr. Hamato'. She turned the knob, and stepped into a tiny, cluttered space piled high with books and unusual contraptions. In the center of this small disaster area was a wooden desk with a green skinned professor sitting behind it.

"Sam!" Don greeted happily. He stood up, and hunted about for a chair for her, but they were all filled with papers and books. Sam waved him back, and perched on the edge of the desk right next to him in lieu of a chair.

"Hey, stranger," she said, leaning forward to drop a kiss on his brow.

"I'm sorry about that," Don offered. Between his lectures and exams, and her cases going to court, they hadn't spent much time together of late. Ships passing in the night had been about it.

"Not your fault," Sam replied, shrugging a little, but her eyes were dark and sad.

"You still gainfully employed?" he asked, catching her hands in his. Dear Don. He almost knew her too well.

"For now," she said softly. He squeezed her fingers gently. He had known from the time of the dinner party that she would face problems at work.

"Sam, maybe we should think about …"

"No," she said sharply, cutting him off. "I'm not leaving you, and don't you dare think about leaving me." Don had to smile a little at her fierce expression. "They can do what they like – demote me, trap me at a desk … Let them try." Sam shifted a little on the desk, her prickly temper in full force. "I'm not afraid of that," she explained, focusing on Don's eyes. "The only thing that scares me is not having you with me."

"I'm not going anywhere," Don responded.

"Damn straight you're not," Sam stated firmly.

* * *

"It's beautiful out here," Juliet noted, the late afternoon sun gilding the edges of her hair.

Mike nodded his agreement. He looked down at the little path they were following. The grass was gone here from the many feet that had walked this way. The trees cast dappled shadows in front of them, and they passed another couple chatting at a picnic table.

"So, where are we at?" Juliet asked. "I know you're not ready to forgive me."

"I forgive you," Mike said, interrupting her in an old and familiar way. "I have no right to do anything else."

"Mike …" Juliet stopped and put a restraining hand on Mike's arm.

"What I did … I don't know how you can forgive me," Mike explained, his head dropping forward in shame, as it always did when they came to this topic. This time, though, Juliet didn't let him hide. She lifted his chin with her hand and made him look at her.

"I forgive you. I'll keep saying it until you believe it," Juliet assured him. She searched his eyes for a moment, hoping that this time she would see acceptance there. She sighed when it didn't appear. "I cheated first, you know." His pupils dilated, and his mouth dropped open in shock. "I cheated you of my self. Of my time and presence in our marriage. Of my affection and love. It doesn't make what you did okay, but I want to get past it," she added a little desperately. "I want to know that you're waiting for me."

Mike took her hand from his arm and held it tenderly in his own. "I'm waiting," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm not going anywhere."

"How are the girls?" Juliet questioned, trying to lighten them both up. These visits were short enough without making them all about their problems.

"They're good. Rachel has a boyfriend," Mike responded. "Raph and I checked him out, and he seems okay." Mike smiled a little, remembering.

"Bet he brings her home on time," Juliet commented, her mouth widening into a smile as they continued up the path and past the high fence topped with sharp wire. Outside the fence, a couple of guards halted their patrol to talk.

"He hasn't been late once," Mike said, grinning too. "I think Raph had a private chat with him." Juliet snickered, imagining the content of that discussion.

They stopped at the gate.

"Two more months," Juliet sighed, her eyes on the outside world. She had gotten off lightly for her part, but it was difficult being separated from her family. "Will you bring the girls next time?"

"I'll try," Mike answered honestly. "Noelle will come, but Rachel … she needs a little more time."

Juliet nodded. It hurt, but it wasn't that surprising. She had a lot of making up to do.

"You're coming home soon, Jules." Mike kissed her cheek, and she leaned against him as the sun sank behind the trees, making the links in the fence glow silver.

The end

* * *

Author's Notes: great big sigh The sequel is done, and I said what I wanted to say.

…

I sent an email to Sassy yesterday, and asked her the big question: to write another sequel, or not to write another sequel? See, there wasn't supposed to be one after 'Cat and Mouse' but I reached the end of that with the ideas for this story in my mind. Much to my amusement (and horror), the same thing happened when I reached the end of 'Moth and Flame'.

So, here I sit on the precipice of writing yet another sequel. What will this one be, you ask? Well, no big time jumps, but answers to some questions. Will Mike and Juliet make a go of it after she gets out of jail? Will Rachel forgive her mom (or get to go shopping)? Are Leo and Sen really over, or will he take a trip off world? Will Raph ever get the girl? What challenges will Don and Sam face in their relationship? Will Amber the piano teacher be murdered by a flock of my readers? The focus, I think, is going to shift a little from Don/Mike to Raph/Leo in this next one. The tentative title right now is 'Light and Shadow'.

I'm probably going to take a short break again like last time – a couple of weeks to get the outline and first few chapters done. This, of course, is why I post updates quickly. I don't start posting until I can guarantee it will be finished. Why? I guess because I hate leaving things unfinished.


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